


Addiction

by angylinni



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-04
Updated: 2011-08-03
Packaged: 2017-10-22 04:49:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/233943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angylinni/pseuds/angylinni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Katie and Marcus have always been at odds, both with each other and with the feelings they inspire in the other.  Four interconnected drabbles written for the 7Spells LJ community.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Red

He never can picture her in anything but red and gold. It seems almost blasphemous, but then again, he never was big on following the rules. He'd never tell anyone, of course, that would just be barmy. It was one thing to want to torment the Gryffindors, but to actually _lust_ after one? Snape would be the first one in line to hand him the poison.

In his fantasies, she was always sprawled across his big four poster, red lace covering those perfect tits, just big enough to fill his palm. Hard nipples pressing against the silken cups, begging for his teeth to scrape over them. Her legs spread wantonly, the shadowed cleft of her pussy making the ruby silk gleam. Her hair is fanned out against the dark emerald of his coverlet, her china blue eyes focused on him and him alone.

She begs him, begs him to fuck her senseless. To push her into the thick, soft mattress, to make her scream his name as her pussy clenches tightly around his cock, slick with her essence.

He pretends indifference, but it's all he can do not to jump her like a callow boy, and spill himself against her satiny skin. She's an addiction, one he can ill afford, but one he craves nonetheless. She has become the one thing in his life that is pure and clean, the one thing unsullied by duty and tradition.

Shaking his head with disgust, he curses under his breath as she flies high above him, oblivious to him, skulking beneath the stands of the pitch, his eyes never leaving her lithe form. He wasn't the type of man she'd notice, the type of man she deserved. He was bound by rules and traditions and hundreds of years of an ideal he didn't believe in. She was free, unfettered by the chains that held him far more securely than anything visible.

He should forget about her, but even as that thought crosses his mind, she flies past him once more, her long hair streaming in the wind and it takes every ounce of will he possesses to let her go by, to soar high away from him.

"Fool," he snarls, hands clenched tightly at his sides, her laughter floating down to him on the wind. He turns and ducks back into the cool, black depths, the shadows closing around him like a cloak. He wasn't the Prince Charming type; he had no business dreaming about the Princess.


	2. The girl no one sees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He never knew she existed, beyond being someone to dominate on the pitch.

She lifts the bottle of firewhiskey to her lips and takes a deep swallow, tears filling her eyes as the liquid burns down her throat. She stares at the candle sitting on the window frame, the light flickering as she blinks the tears away.

"Happy birthday to me," she whispers to the empty room, misery churning sourly in her stomach. Ever since her release, the rest of Gryffindor House didn't seem to know how to treat her. Mostly, they just avoided her, easier that way, she supposes. After all, if that twat Malfoy had succeeded, she would've been part of destroying Dumbledore.

She's almost gotten used to being alone, isolated in a tower-full of strangers, people that she used to laugh and joke with, and sometimes flirt. Never again. She wonders if that's how Flint felt, a member of Slytherin House, but never truly part of the whole.

He was feared, that was a certainty, and respected, in an odd sort of way, but when she watched him, at the table and at the pitch, he was always separate. It wouldn't be noticeable, unless one watched him constantly, like she did. It'd become almost second nature to seek him out in whatever room or place they happened to be together.

She lifts the bottle once more, peering blearily at the amount left. It'd been half full; a remnant left by the twins after their spectacular exit during Umbridge's reign of terror and now there was barely enough in there to get a mouse pissed.

Tears leak silently down her cheeks and she closes her eyes, picturing Flint. He wasn't handsome, by anyone's stretch of imagination, but there was something so compelling about him. She laughs without mirth. He never knew she existed, beyond being someone to dominate on the pitch. He never knew that she dreamt of him… holding her… kissing her… doing all the things she heard went on in the Astronomy Tower.

He'd laugh if he knew, deride her for being so foolish as to think someone like him would ever be interested in a girl like her. Last she'd heard, he was flying reserves for the Falcons.

She swipes angrily at the tears, shoving the bottle of whiskey violently away. She'd never be one of those women, the tall, leggy witches with big breasts and swaying hips, the kind of woman that would interest a man like Flint. She was just plain, cursed Katie Bell, the one everyone forgot.


	3. Moving Forward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, her life was moving forward. It had felt like she was sleepwalking through life for the past four years.

The small, gold plaque sat in the middle of the door, the script elegant and precise. _K. Bell_ A small smile crept across her lips as she reached out and traced the letters. It'd been a long, hard road, but she'd come back from the curse and sat for her NEWT's, earning six, including one in Arithmancy, which had gotten her the foot in the door.

 _Assistant UnderMinister for Quidditch Bell_. It had a nice ring to it. Pushing open the door, she stepped inside the big office, her smile widening as she looked around. A large, mahogany desk stood before the window, overlooking the busy Muggle street below. The window was charmed to be invisible to the non-magical world.

Finally, her life was moving forward. It felt like she'd been sleepwalking through the past four years, just plugging away with no real life. Taking a deep breath, she walked over to the desk and settled into the chair, smoothing her hands across her pristine desk.

A knock sounded and her secretary bustled in, her arms full of folders and papers. "Miss Bell, you've got a meeting in ten minutes with the rep from the Falcons. He'll be waiting in conference room four. I've got the rest of your schedule here and it's on your blotter, spelled to only appear for you." The woman carefully set the pile of folders on one corner of the massive desk, summoning baskets from the outer office and placing them next to the folders. "I'm Miranda Soames, welcome to the office, Miss Bell."

Katie looked up, a bit stunned and held out her hand, shaking the one the other woman stuck out. "Thank you, and do you have the agenda for the meeting?"

Miranda nodded, thumbing through the folders briskly, selecting one and setting it before Katie. "The Falcons are protesting the recent penalizations over fouls. They've sent one of the teammembers to plead their case. You are to decide if the fines were justified."

Katie sighed. Nothing like jumping into the frying pan on her first day. "Do you know who the rep is?"

Miranda checked the folder, her nail sliding down the page. "Marcus Flint."

Katie's stomach clenched tightly and she nearly snapped her quill in half. "Beg pardon?"

Miranda turned to look at her. "Marcus Flint, Chaser for the Falcons. He's the one that incurred most of the fines."

Wonderful. Katie gathered the folder together and rose, praying that she didn't make a fool of herself.


	4. Meeting Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 4 years after Katie leaves Hogwarts, she meets up with Marcus Flint once more.

His fingers drummed impatiently against the table, eyes darting towards the clock ticking merrily away above the door. She was late, and he hated being forced to wait. With a low growl, he rose from the table and stalked to the windows, staring out at the busy street below, filled with oblivious Muggles.

He heard the door open and spun around, an angry tirade dying on his lips as Katie Bell stepped into the room, closing the door carefully behind her. Fuck, she looked almost exactly the same as he remembered her. Her hair was shorter, but her eyes were still that amazing blue, so clear that he could drown in it.

She cleared her throat and set the folders she was carrying on the conference table. "Mr. Flint."

He nodded and walked to the table, forcing his body to relax, cursing the instant reaction that seeing her again had inspired. It was damn hard to walk with a hard-on, especially one that didn't want to go away. Sitting down, he shifted gingerly, unable to take his eyes off of her.

"Been a long time, Bell," he said finally, as she began to fidget under his intense gaze.

"It has," she said, nodding. Her hand was playing with the folder and he couldn't stop staring at her fingers, long and delicately formed, the nails short and squared off. Opening the folder, she pulled out a thin sheet of parchment. "We're here today to discuss the levying of fines against the Falcon's players, more specifically you, correct?"

He nodded, licking his lips as he imagined those hands on his body. She continued, completely oblivious to his stare. "And you feel these fines weren't justified?"

His heavy hand thumped onto the table, startling her. "Hell no!"

Katie tried to cover up the fact that she'd jumped nearly halfway out of her skin by gathering the papers in the folder together, shuffling them. She read the reports, her brow arching as she looked up at him once more. "You borrowed the Beater's Club and directed the Bludger at the Chudley Keeper because he called you a troll?"

A slow smirk spread across Marcus's lips. That'd been a memorable day. Shrugging, he sat back in the chair, staring at her. "Quidditch is a rough game, Bell; you know that better than anyone."

Her cheeks heated and it made him wonder just what memory she was reliving. He hoped to Salazar that it was one involving him, because that blush was spreading down her neck and disappearing behind the curving neckline of her robes. Whatever it was, it had to be good to make her react like that.

She dropped her gaze to the paper once more, shaking her head as she read yet another of his supposed transgressions. "Broom tampering, shoving, insertion of foreign objects…"

He leaned across the table and she looked up, startled. "Like I said, I play to win."

Katie sighed, setting the paper down. "Then I'm afraid the fines will remain, since you obviously delight in flaunting the rules. Those rules exist for everyone's safety-"

He cut her off mid-rant with one long finger pressed against her lips. "What your report fails to mention is the fouls the other teams perpetrated against me, thus requiring me to retaliate. When I tagged the Chudley Keeper, it was payback for the Quaffle he tossed at my Seeker's head, nearly making him fall from his broom. Ask your sources about those before you condemn me."

She moved away, her eyes wide as she stared at him. Her mouth opened and closed several times before she nodded briskly, gathering up the papers and closing the folder. "Fine, you'll get a hearing with the Minister, an owl will be sent notifying you of the date and time."

He frowned in puzzlement. "You're not going to do it yourself?"

She stopped mid rise. "That's not my job."

He rose and walked around the table towards her, his gaze never leaving her face. "I suppose then that it wouldn't be breaking the rules to ask you to lunch?"

Her mouth dropped open in a soft little "oh" that had him hard again instantly. "I… um… It won't change the outcome of your hearing," she said finally, raising her chin a notch and staring at him defiantly.

"I don't give a damn about the results of the hearing, sweets," he said, chuckling.

"You don't?" Her eyes were wide with disbelief.

"No." He was so close that he could smell the delicate scent of her perfume, mixing with the heady scent that was uniquely her. Leaning his hip on the desk, he arched his brow. "So?"

Katie bit her lip, her eyes searching his face. "Yes."


End file.
